


Stiles and The Overgrown Puppy

by pupsaac (heyitschoc)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alpha Derek, Alpha Derek Hale, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cuddling Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Cute Derek Hale, Cute Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale Loves Petting, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Heavy Petting, M/M, Oblivious Stiles, POV Stiles, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Romantic Fluff, Stiles-centric, The Hale Pack - Freeform, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Werewolf Derek, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 13:08:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13659627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyitschoc/pseuds/pupsaac
Summary: “You like that big boy?” Stiles teased in a sultry tone which was followed by a snicker. Derek, for a lack of a better term, lets out a soft whimper much to Stiles’ delight. This continued on for a little while until Stiles was confident that Derek fell asleep. He slowly took his hand off the werewolf’s head but as soon as he lost contact, he heard Derek grumble in his sleep so he was forced to place his hand back, scratching the scalp until the sound was replaced with a content sigh.or that 5+1 fic where Derek loves getting petted and Stiles is too much of an enabler.





	Stiles and The Overgrown Puppy

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, another 5+1 fic because I cannot get enough of them! Plus, really this is just an excuse for me to write cute and fluffy Sterek because I miss them and I miss the whole cast of Teen Wolf and I would do anything to have them all back in my life. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

It started, surprisingly, by accident. Stiles was laid down on the loveseat one night while the whole pack was having their bi-monthly hangout at the Hale House. Anyway, he was squeezed on the couch together with Derek when he felt a dip on his shoulder and the next thing he knows, he’s smelling the faint scent of Derek’s shampoo. It wasn’t something surprising really, seeing as how they’ve matured into their relationship. Gone were the days that they shoved each other against hard surfaces (Derek) and retorted to petty sarcasm (Stiles)— they were civil. What he did next though, that he just blamed on poor impulse control and the alluring mixture of mint and lavender. Reaching out, Stiles slowly ran his hand through Derek’s head and was met with a barely there whimper, the sort of sound a dog makes when it is being petted.

Stiles looked around to see if anybody else noticed, but everyone else was immersed in watching and eating that nobody even glanced their way in passing. So Stiles let out a small shrug and continued to play with Derek’s hair, tugging on the surprisingly soft stands and occasionally scratching his scalp.  Their little _session_ as Stiles would like to call it, went on for at least another 10 minutes until Isaac got up to go to the bathroom. Derek straightened himself and let out a small cough before taking a sip of his soda. _Not weird at all_ , Stiles thought.

 

A month later, they were on a camping trip. Derek insisted that they go out of the woods to _“reconnect with their primal nature”_ but if you asked Stiles, he’d say it’s just a ruse to get them all killed by mosquitos. The trip in itself was uneventful. They hiked to the mountain tops, Stiles complained, Scott offered to carry him on his back, and Isaac rolled his eyes before calling him a derogatory term Stiles would rather not recall.

Once they have set out camp, everyone was more than exhausted even by werewolf standards so they just decided to start a bonfire and hang around the fire for warmth.

“You know what this party needs?” Stiles said, lips curled into that mischievous smile that told everyone in the Pack that he’s up to something stupid again.

“I swear to God if you say ‘tell a scary campfire story’ I will throw you off the cliff!” Isaac threatened with a groan, but it fell on deaf ears as Stiles began recounting the story of The Choking Doberman much to everyone’s dismay.

He knew it was silly to tell the story of a dog choking on a man’s dismembered finger when they’ve all faced real, actual monsters. Once Stiles had finished though, they all fell into a groove and one by one, they told some silly scary lore or a dumb story about men with hooks for fingers or serial killers who lived in the woods and not before long, they were all laughing with one another.

When the fire had died, so did the laughter and it became obvious that they all needed sleep. Going up in pairs, mostly by the couple, the pack members started to settle in for the night and despite all odds, Derek and Stiles ended up camping in together. Once they were inside their tent, Stiles let out a distinct yawn, settled down, and pulled the sheets over his body. He was about to close his eyes when he noticed Derek taking his shirt off.

“What are you doing Buddy?” He asked, concerned.

“Going to sleep?” Derek answered in a puzzled tone as if Stiles just asked him a stupid question.

“Yeah I get that, but aren’t you afraid of freezing your balls to death?” More questions came out of Stiles as he watched Derek lay down on the floor beside him.

“Werewolves run hot.” The older man replied and Stiles, who has been living with supernatural creatures for a long while decided the answer was acceptable enough.

A minute of silence had passed before he felt Derek’s warm body press against his and his arms encircle his waist. For a moment Stiles was stunned but when Derek started to rub the top of his head on Stiles’ shoulder, he figured out what the other man wanted from him.

Slowly, Stiles reached to the top of Derek’s head, his fingers combing through Derek’s hair in a slow, repeated motion. When he heard Derek’s low grumble, he let out a little snort to himself as he began to draw circles on his scalp.

“What’s it with you and petting?” Stiles absentmindedly asked after a few minutes, his fingers still playing with Derek’s hair. A minute passed by without an answer, but Stiles was relentless.

“Is it like, a werewolf intimacy thing? Like when Scott starts hugging me for no reason or when Isaac and Erica rubbed their noses against my neck after that one summer I spent in Poland?” When Derek didn’t budge, Stiles suddenly withdrew his hand from his head and took a good look at him. “Seriously dude, I won’t judge okay! I’ve known you for far too long to start judging your weirdness now.”

“Stiles,” Derek said rather blearily, eyes closed as he rubbed his stumble against Stiles’ shoulder. “Shut up and play with my hair.”

He could only chuckle before going back to pet Derek’s hair, filing this one as just another weird werewolf custom that he might never understand. Early the next day, he woke up and found his arms wrapped around Derek’s neck, effectively hugging him to his chest. He tried to scoot away from their position but found himself being tugged back into the older man’s embrace. _‘Werewolves’_ he thought before hugging Derek closer to his chest, his hand once again finding their way to his head until he was lulled back to sleep by the comforting warmth emanating from Derek.

 

The third time it happened, they weren’t even actually together. It was a late Thursday night and Stiles was doing research for the pack— _thank you, stupid succubus—_ when he heard his window open. He didn’t have to look behind him to know who it was. Seriously, there’s only one person who ever does that.

“Why are you still awake?” And Stiles gave out a small smirk when he heard Derek speak. Ahh, the little joys of life!

“Oh, I just love any excuse not to do actual work and you know, do fun research on morbid supernatural creatures who seduce you and then fuck you to death.” Turning around, he found Derek pulling a chair and walking towards him. “What’s up big guy?”

There was a pregnant pause before Derek answered, “I can’t sleep.” Somehow, Stiles believed that, what he had a hard time figuring out though, was why Derek went to him if he’s having a hard time sleeping until something clicked in his brain. His eyes sparkled with a mixture of delight and mischief which just grew bigger once he noticed Derek look on the floor, looking bashful.

“Oh my God!” He couldn’t help the big, wide smile on his face and the only reason he didn’t right out laugh was that Derek started standing up, grumbling to himself about how bad of an idea this was. Reaching out towards the retreating figure of Derek, Stiles grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back towards him. “Let me just turn off my computer.”

He waited for Derek to give him a nod before going back to his laptop, saving any document he made and bookmarking some sites he thought were relevant. When he turned around, he saw Derek sitting on the edge of his bed, looking slightly awkward, as if he wasn’t sure if he’s allowed into the bed or not. ‘ _Kinda like a cute puppy’_ Stiles thought.

Stiles, who was surprisingly nonchalant about this whole thing, simply crawled to his bed, spreading the covers over to invite Derek to do the same. The latter seemed hesitant at first but eventually gave in and laid beside Stiles on the mattress, pulling the covers around them both. Stiles would not call it _awkward_ , but there were a few moments of uncomfortable silence between them. His best guess was Derek must have been unsure what would be the protocol in this scenario because that was exactly what Stiles was thinking.

When a couple more minutes passed without either of them making a move, Stiles let out an impatient groan before looking to his side where he found Derek stiffly laying. Without so much of an afterthought, Stiles pulled Derek to his side and placing his left arm under his neck, he began petting the werewolf who immediately responded by relaxing his tense muscles.

“You like that big boy?” Stiles teased in a sultry tone which was followed by a snicker. Derek, for a lack of a better term, lets out a soft whimper much to Stiles’ delight. This continued on for a little while until Stiles was confident that Derek fell asleep. He slowly took his hand off the werewolf’s head but as soon as he lost contact, he heard Derek grumble in his sleep so he was forced to place his hand back, scratching the scalp until the sound was replaced with a content sigh.

Stiles didn’t even know what time or how he fell asleep but the following morning, he woke up to a hot and heavy feeling, which turned out to be Derek cuddling beside him, his head tucked under Stiles’ chin. He was still feeling a little bit disoriented so he took a look at the clock which registered 8 o’clock which means his father is already home. What he felt then could not be called panic, but it was close so he did what any man would do in the situation, he started slapping Derek until he woke up.

“Hey, you need to leave. My dad’s home.” It sounded like they were doing something so wrong and so dirty when the reality was they were just snuggling with each other. His father had seen him in more compromising positions, but that’s beside the point. Right now, Derek needs to leave and he needs to leave fast.

“What?” Derek, curse the gods, looked so adorable with his messy hair, rubbing the residual sleep in his eyes.

“Dad, here. Leave, now.” Stiles tried a more sarcastic and basic approach which Derek actually understood— _The Caveman_! He was up one second and out the window in another.

“See you later for training.” It was more of a statement than a question, which is why Stiles didn’t bother answering.

“Fucking werewolves.” He groaned before falling back into his bed, hugging the pillow Derek used close to himself.

 

Two weeks and one dead succubus later, the whole pack was gathered in the Hale House, tending ( _not licking,_ thank you very much Stiles _)_ their wounds. They mostly got out of it with a few cuts and bruises. Derek, on the other hand, was badly hurt. His side showed a long gash that _oozed_ blood. Seriously, the only reason he was alive was that Stiles was quick enough to inject silver into the demon’s bloodstream and even then, he was almost too late.

“I swear to God you need to stop with this hero complex! You have a pack for a reason, Derek!” Stiles berated him but kept on disinfecting his wounds anyway, albeit pressing a little too hard it made Derek wince.

“I’m going to be fine Stiles.” Came the exhausted reply. Stiles knew it was true, but he was still concerned. He laughed in his mind at this. Several years ago, he wouldn’t have even cared if Derek lost his arm to the demon, but now he’s actually nursing the man back to full health and circling around to make sure every other person in the room was okay. Life is funny like that.

“Won’t gonna stop me from worrying like a mother goose!” Stiles called back as he moved on to Isaac whose head laceration looked like it won’t be healing anytime soon. He went ahead to check for concussion, giving the guy a pat on the cheek when he deemed him capable enough on his own before walking towards the others.

As soon as he’s done inspecting every one of his pack members if they needed any more first aid attention, Stiles took it upon himself to order take out. They were wounded, hungry and in dire need of questionable Chinese.

A couple of hours went by and everyone had pretty much healed up, except for Derek, if going by the red seeping through his thick layers of gauze. Understanding that there is nothing else that they can actually do but wait for the wounds to heal on their own, the Alpha stood up with great difficulty. Stiles was quick to assist him, announcing to the others that he’ll be taking Derek to his room and that it’s probably better if they all settled in for the evening as well. He was dismissed with a few wave and nods.

Getting Derek into his bed was an easy enough ordeal. Sure, Stiles may have struggled to carry the extra weight all the way up the stairs, but Derek for his part tried to actually carry himself and by the time they were in his room, he was insistent of walking on his own to the mattress. That being said, what was apparently a difficult thing to do was get out of the bed. Stiles was ready to leave the man alone to rest when he felt Derek’s strong grip pull him down with him.

“Stay,” the tone wasn’t at all desperate, but it was pleading and the look that Derek had on his face— a cross between pain and exhaustion— didn’t help either. So, there they were: Stiles sitting on the edge of the bed while Derek held onto his arm, laying down with a wounded chest. Really, there wasn’t much of a wiggle room here so Stiles let out an exasperated sigh (not really) before laying down beside Derek who immediately buried his face in his chest and outright _sniffed_ him. Stiles, knowing what had to be done, mostly by instinct, swept his hand over Derek’s sweaty head. It was obvious that his actions relaxed Derek so he just continued on his playful ministrations, adding in a soft hum to lull the worn-out man to sleep. Hopefully, his wounds would have completely healed come sunrise.

The morning after, they were greeted by raised brows and knowing smirks that they both ignored pointedly. They know that nothing happened between them. Well, _nothing that would compromise their friendship anyway,_ Stiles thought. So, they ignored the looks they got until Stiles had to leave because his father is supposed to have one of his rare days off, but not before telling Derek that he’ll be back later that day to check in and then gave both Erica and Isaac dirty looks. They both burst into a maniacal laugh before Stiles even got into his jeep, _the bastards!_ He could just hope that whatever this is that’s going on between him and Derek would soon make sense because he’s entirely unsure if he can take any more of _whatever this is!_

 

Stiles and Scott are best friends, nay, _brothers_. Everyone knows that. So, Stiles thought it was safe to test his theory on Scott while they were hanging out together outside of the pack. They were in Scott’s room watching a horror film that shouldn’t scare a badass werewolf but it still got Scott cuddling into Stiles and burying his head on his shoulder every time a suspenseful tune plays. Reaching out, he began to softly ruffle Scott’s hair and when he didn’t hear any protest he went ahead and gave him a scalp scratch that was met with a satisfied hum.

“So I guess it _is_ a werewolf thing after all huh?” Stiles mumbled to himself but Scott caught it and looked at his best friend with a confused look on his adorable puppy face. “The fondness for getting petted. I thought it was just a Derek thing but I guess not.”

At that, Scott looked even incredulous and so Stiles went on a full explanation on how Derek has been acting like a real touch starved puppy around him this past couple of months. Then he went to explain how at first, he thought it was just Derek’s way of showing emotions but now he’s pretty sure that the whole lot of them are basically just dogs who generally love being doted on. Stiles tried to look like it didn’t bother him (it wasn’t like he was harboring a crush on Derek and getting his hopes up or anything) but Scott’s face just scrunched up even harder.

“Dude, we are not touch starved puppies.” He said in an exasperated tone like Stiles should really know better now.

“But the pets and you were really into it and…” Stiles was cut off midsentence.

“Because I like getting my hair played in general and we have always been this tactile with each other. Derek though,” Scott paused as Stiles started putting the puzzle pieces together.

“Is an emotionally constipated man who would rip off your arms if any of you ever tried to get near his hair.” Stiles is standing now and Scott whined at the sudden loss of contact. “Sorry buddy, need to hit your Alpha on the nose with a newspaper.”

Normally, it takes Stiles 25 minutes to drive from his house to Derek’s but he managed to do it in a little over 10. Rushing towards the front steps and into the foyer, Stiles scream called for Derek while searching the house, finally finding the whole in his bed relaxing with a book in his hands. Derek slowly puts down his books while Stiles pointed an accusatory finger at him, his eyes squinted and ears practically steaming with smoke.

“You lying, manipulative, asshole!” Stiles was fuming but Derek only looked at him with unimpressed eyes.

“What did I do this time?” The confusion in his words wasn’t amiss, but Stiles can see that his mind is trying to connect the pieces until his eyes widened minutely.

“That’s right you sly motherfucker, I know what was happening and your treachery will not stand any longer.” He was about to continue his monologue when Derek unceremoniously pulled him down the bed with him and before Stiles can even process what was happening, he felt Derek’s lips on his own, his tongue slid inside Stiles’ open mouth and his body was pressed against the soft mattress.

Once he was acclimated to what was happening, Stiles took a handful of Derek’s hair and tugged on it, his fingers grabbing spikes of his hair and pulling on them as he reveled in the feeling of Derek exploring his mouth, their bodies pressed together with no sign of parting anytime soon.

Eventually, they both had to come up for air, much to Stiles’ dismay but when he looked at Derek, he saw that the older man was staring at him with dazed eyes, swollen lips, and his hair in disarray courtesy of Stiles. He was mesmerized by the scene before him but more to the point, he was finally able to express his affection for Derek.

“I’m still so pissed at you right now,” Stiles said as his fingers glided across Derek’s head to which to older responded by planting a chaste kiss on Stiles’ lips.

“No, you’re not,” Derek whispered before laying on top of Stiles, wrapping his hands around his middle, and burying his face on the younger’s chest.

Knowing full well that Derek was right and that he’s just happy that they finally got their shit together, Stiles just hummed in agreement before going back to playing with Derek’s hair. Stiles didn’t know how it all came to this but one thing he knows is that he’ll never get tired of the feeling of Derek clinging to him like an overgrown puppy whose only goal in life is to get Stiles to pet him. Yep, that sounds like something Stiles can get used to.

 

Their next Pack night fell on a Saturday evening following a full moon. With every werewolf still feeling the pull of the moon, they decided it would be best that they stay indoors as not to risk accidental shifts in the club _(see Isaac)._ Everyone was huddled in the living room watching a romantic comedy that the ladies recommended while boxes of pizza and buckets of chicken were scattered around.

Stiles was greedily clinching a large tub of curly fries while sprawled the loveseat when Derek came in holding two six-pack beers. He sat up straight to give _his boyfriend_ (yes, he calls him that now so suck on it) some space which Derek took after placing the cans of beer on the coffee table. Stiles was concentrating on the movie while stuffing his mouth with one fry after the other when he felt Derek watching him. Turning to his side, he saw the Alpha looking at him with straight lips and unimpressed eyes.

“What?” He asked with a mouthful of junk food.

“I’m the jealous type you know?” He said, eyeing the tub of fries with what looked like genuine disdain and weirdly enough, Stiles felt something stir inside him.

“Oh c’mere you big silly wolf.” Stiles cooed, setting his fries aside and wiping his greasy hands on the armrest. He was about to wrap his hands around Derek’s neck and pull him into a hug when a stray bell pepper hit him in the face.

“Get a room, you guys!” It was Scott who was looking distraught at the scene before him and when they glanced around, they saw that half the pack were looking at them. The other half were either too absorbed by the movie or simply didn’t care enough. Nevertheless, Stiles still rolled his eyes before making a show of kissing Derek and letting out a soft moan just to antagonize Scott even more.

“You’re a menace,” Derek whispered as Stiles chuckled at Scott’s reddening face. Stiles just shrugged before resting his head on Derek’s shoulder, the tub of curly fries back in his hands, and his attention on the TV screen. It didn’t take long before he felt gentle hands combing through his coiffed hair. He moved even closer towards Derek’s body, relishing the feeling of Derek’s hands on his head and the warmth that spreads through his whole body. When did he get ever so lucky?

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated and if you liked this, you might want to check out some of my other works! Keep it fresh fam.


End file.
